Entwined Tears
by Brave Princess
Summary: Sansa, needs to escape Winterfell. It's no longer her home, and she fears it will soon become her burial ground, but who could help her in a place such as this? Theon, a slave to Ramsay is asked to do two impossible tasks. One from the man he hates most. The second from the woman who hates him most.
1. Chapter 1

Snow fell softly outside, just as softly as Sansa's tears. They fell. One. Two. Three onto her pillow without a sound. As each tear rolled down her pale cheeks she remembered another reason it would be better to be dead. But Sansa would not cry for long; just long enough to say the names of those she would avenge. She said them under her breath in that of a prayer. "Father...Mother...Robb..Arya.. Bran...Rickon…" Their names were her solace. She said them before she ate. Before she slept and when she woke. She said their names within her mind when Ramsey came to her at night. When she walked the empty halls that used to feel like her home. Whenever she needed to remember why she was in fact, alive, she repeated their names. To remember and to avenge.

Today her tears came quicker and wouldn't leave. Ramsay hurt her more than just forcing himself on her every night. Sansa already knew his heart must be made of cold iron but, she also discovered his fists were the the same when he struck her for daring to refuse his nightly desires. She now laid on a bed that disgraced and shamed her; with fresh bruises that cover her legs and tear stained cheek.

The tightness in her throat threatened to cut off all the air left in her body as Theon, or what was left of Theon, entered her chambers. Sansa didn't realize he was in her room at all until he placed her food on her nightstand. When she heard him, she quickly wiped her face clear of any tears, and when she met his eyes she had to control herself from letting the walls around her heart crumble.

Theon...The one miserable person in all of Winterfell who might be as reduced to shame and tears as herself. When she first saw him sleeping with the dogs, Sansa believed he deserved every ounce of cruelty that befell him. When Ramsay forced an apology from Theon's lips, it surprised her, how much it hurt to hear he was sorry.

At that time she didn't believe a word of it, still didn't, but it pained her all the same. On her wedding night when he said Ramsay would hurt him she could have laughed in his face to think she should care. Oh how wrong she had been…Ramsay is wretched in a way even Joffrey never was. Or perhaps they are exactly the same and different levels of power changed their ability to be sadistic monsters.

Whatever the case Sansa realized on her wedding night just how dangerous it was to be back in Winterfell. Ramsay is a bastard both by birth and character. Theon knew that. Looking at the ghost of the man she once greatly admired, Sansa, for the first time since arriving in Winterfell, wondered what hells Theon endured at the hands of her _husband_.

His once handsome face looked sullen and depressed. His broad shoulders hunched and shaking. But his eyes were still alive, but even now they were hooded with fear. This was not the same man she knew when she was young, but she also believed he was not the same man who killed her brothers and betrayed her family. Sansa though, was not naive enough to believe that, that meant she could trust him.

He looked away, and before Sansa had a chance to say something, he was gone. Not that she knew what to say. Certainly not any form of thanks or pity… Well perhaps pity? She would tell him how much she hated him. She would tell him how sorry she was for not taking his arm at her wedding for surely that is why they both suffered that night. Sansa would tell him many things of King's Landing, and the hell she endured there. She would make him cry for the crimes he committed against her family. She would say everything vial she had to keep within herself since arriving in Winterfell.

Yet the only words she spoke, barely above a whisper, to the place Theon had stood was "help me."

A/N: Feedback maybe? This is my first non-oneshot so please be gentle with it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: To start I want to say I'm so sorry it's taken this long to post this short chapter, but I really hope you like it. I promise chapter three will be long and plot will become more apparent but thanks for sticking with this story guys your reviews mean so much so thank you! And I don't think I did my disclaimer last chapter so I guess I should say I do not own Game of Thrones, the books or tv show.

Theon left Sansa's room swiftly; just before she had a chance to say a word. Since Sansa Stark's arrival in Winterfell it had been harder for Theon to think of himself as just _Reek_. When he saw her face, he remembered who he had been. He had been a man, and now he didn't know what he was. Certainly not Theon Greyjoy.

Theon made his way to Ramsay's study and took a deep breath before going inside. Walking into a room with Ramsay was like playing with wildfire. Theon never knew how to behave for fear of a new burn. Ramsay was creative in one way only; in ways to hurt _Reek_. As he tentatively approached Ramsay's work table, Ramsay spoke. "Ah, Reek, just who I wanted to see!" Theon had to control the tremors that Ramsay's words could reduce him to, especially now. Ramsay never _just_ wanted to see anyone.

"Yes...m-my lord", he replied carefully. Ramsay stood from his seat but turned his back to Theon, facing the window looking out over the snow covered courtyard.

"Did you realize", Ramsay began, "that everything I could ever have hoped to happen, has?" He turned now, looking at Theon with mockery. "It's like the old tale goes. The tale of Frost and Burns the two dragons of fate. You do know the story don't you Reek?" Of course Theon had heard the tale growing up but he wouldn't dare interrupt Ramsay to tell him as much.

"The dragons lived in opposite realms of Fate and Destiny. Frost was the most beautiful dragon with its scales of ice blue and wings that stretched across clouds. Her beauty and ferocity brought her prominence and admiration from all. But Burns was a small sickly dragon black as soot. She was no more feared that a stray dog. Burns jealousy grew larger with each passing day. She became so consumed with envy that she tracked down the stone of fate which would give her what she desired most of all, but only if Burns could give up on everything she once was. Burns of course agreed and in returned switched bodies with Frost. Burns became the most feared dragon in all the lands while Frost in her new form was easily slaughtered by Burns." Ramsay finished. "A rather similar story to ours don't you agree, Reek?"

"Yes, my lord", Theon murmured. It was pitifully true. Theon was easily slaughtered, and _Reek_ now had to live as the ghost of who he once was. Theon couldn't control the shaking anymore. He looked at anything but Ramsay afraid he would see his fear and feed off of it. But Ramsay saw his fear at all times. Ramsay asked Theon a question that threw him into turmoil with emotions, "How much do you still value your life, Reek?"

Theon opened his mouth to speak, but then promptly shut it. He didn't expect that. He didn't even know where that question would lead him. Probably more torture if answered incorrectly. But it seemed that it was only a rhetorical question because Ramsay continued.

"Today we will find out if you do. I have a job that I will entrust to you and you alone. If you refuse I'll slit your pathetic throat and be done with you, although that would be such a shame, don't you agree, Reek?" Ramsay's face betrayed his sadistic glee in seeing Theon's face contort with fear.

"What would you have me do my lord?" Theon spoke with his head down and voice trembling.

"My father's bitch is pregnant. How the fat cow managed that is beyond me, but she cannot have a son. If she does it will ruin everything I have worked for." He walked right in front of Theon, forcing him to look Ramsay in the face by clenching Theon's chin up. "And you Reek, are going to kill her before even a week has come to pass."

The threat hung in the air choking Theon's ability to think. He stood there motionless hoping he'd disappear and Ramsay could never hurt him again. Never have the power to make him do anything ever again. But Theon was still in Ramsay's room. He still had to give an answer. Theon hated Ramsay more than he ever had before in that moment. Not because he was abusing him physically. Not because he was making him witness Sansa lose her virginity. But because he forced Theon to admit his most pathetic truth out loud. That he did still valued his life.

No, not life, but he did value his existence. No matter how pathetic his existence became Theon was not ready to die. For he feared the demons he knew would come for him once he passed into the next world. And that would be the worst hell of all. The farmer boys he killed still haunted him now, but in death he knew they would be there always, plaguing him for eternity. Not just them but the Starks as well. Every single one of them. So with a dreaded resolve, Theon agreed to kill Walda Bolton for his master. But more pathetically, for himself. With a sardonic smile Ramsay dismissed Theon, "Just as I suspected, Reek, you value your life just enough."

A/N: Review maybe?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This by far has been my favorite chapter to write. It alternates pov and contains more plot than my first two chapters so I hope you all enjoy! Seriously thanks for sticking with this story, I love it so much so I hope you do too. Reviews are what fuel me to continue so please drop one if you'd be so kind.

Sansa had gotten used to being alone since arriving in Winterfell. She never had such luxury in King's Landing. She was being constantly watched by someone, mainly by Cercei. This was perhaps the one shred of happiness Sansa had received since coming back home. Never having to tiptoe her way around Joffrey and his wretched mother. In Winterfell she was alone in the mornings, except for when Theon came to bring her food. She was free till late evening. Late evenings were what Sansa hated most. She had to be seated next to her husband, whom she despised. She had to make conversation with the man who murdered her mother and brother. While doing so, she had to keep up the facade that nothing was the matter. That the man she was pledged to didn't hurt her every night. That she didn't care about her family. All those thoughts she needed to hold up on her face from late evening to morning. Today was no different.

Sansa was alone wandering the cool granite halls of Winterfell midafternoon. It was a great freedom to be out of her room. Most days Sansa was confined to her quarters until summoned for meals but today she was allowed to wander the halls. Ramsay's men were placed at every entrance that lead outside but Sansa didn't care. She just wanted to be away from her prison. She wanted to walk and think and today her mind was consumed with thoughts.

She was contemplating things she knew she shouldn't. They were dangerous thoughts. She was thinking about how she could escape Winterfell. She trusted Littlefinger but only to so many lengths. Yes, he helped her, but Sansa knew all too well that if her uses were more beneficial dead, that that's what she would become. She hadn't heard word from him since he left for King's Landing, and it filled her with both pain and relief. Pain, because Sansa felt very lost without her guide, and his constant shield between Sansa and the rest of the world. But also relief.

Relief because she didn't have to constantly think through his many motives. Didn't have to question each new change in his complex plan for power. Sansa saw through many of his lies and deception, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there is a piece in his games she didn't anticipate. Something he had completely hidden from her sight that could change everything.

These thoughts had been occupying Sansa's mind for quite some time, but now that Stannis was marching to take Winterfell, her faith was being stretched thin. As her thoughts ran away with Sansa's mind she didn't notice Theon before she ran directly into him. She thought she could balance herself, but the impact knocked Theon off balance and onto the ground; with his legs tripping Sansa, they both made impact with the stone floor with a thud. At first Sansa was incredibly embarrassed for making such a fool of herself, but then she remembered who tripped her and quickly replaced her blush with a scowl.

With difficulty she picked herself up while Theon edged himself back into the hallways corner. Sansa was furious and took two steps toward him ready to strike. But before her hand was even raised she realize she couldn't do it. Theon was shaking so hard Sansa could visibly see his tremors. However that isn't what stopped her. When Sansa stepped closer she could see every tear falling from his face, and she couldn't help but think of the ones she had just shed that very morning. It was still snowing and through the window she felt a breeze, but that wasn't what made Sansa shiver. She stood there watching him fall apart shamelessly. For the second time in one day she wondered what Theon had been through to become the creature he was today. Theon tilted his head up, but wouldn't look at Sansa directly. Once he realized she wasn't going to come any closer he got up, but slowly, still not looking at her.

Sansa however, was focused on his every movement. Each small movement seemed to reveal something about his abused life. His whole body seemed to scream at Sansa's sympathy, but then she would remember why she could never forgive the man in front of her. _Bran and Rickon_ … Just thinking about about them shredded Sansa's insides. Her anger was instantly back, but she had nothing to say to the pathetic shell of Theon Greyjoy. He was now back on his feet; hunched over like he was ready to be lashed at by Sansa any moment. Although Sansa would love nothing more than to hurt the man who had so deeply hurt her family, she couldn't. She would never do it because if she hurt someone as lost and broken as _Reek_ she feared she would become no different than the Boltons. And that, Sansa thought, would be a much worse fate than death. Becoming as cruel as Ramsay would be something Sansa could never reconcile.

So she walked past the trembling Theon with her head held high. But she didn't miss the look of shock and maybe some other feeling, hope she thought, on his face before she turned the corner. And for the rest of the afternoon Sansa forgot all about escaping Winterfell, and had her mind on the sullen face of Theon, and how it seemed to reflect her own face so very well.

* * *

Sansa was preparing for the evening. In King's Landing she had someone to help her with everything. Her hair. Clothes. Cleaning. She used to enjoy those small conveniences, but now everyone felt like an invader in her home. Mostly because they were. She didn't trust the women who came to clean her room or even draw her bath. Perhaps it was Sansa's paranoia, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they were there to report her every movement to Roose Bolton or Ramsay. So she told them to stop coming. Which meant Sansa had to prepare things much sooner and work much harder. But the work gave Sansa something to do during the numb hours of day. Also it kept her mind off what came in the evening.

This evening she put on a dark grey dress that was embroidered with lovely designed along the cuffs of her sleeves. Then she began on her hair, which she was completely out of practice with. Sansa repeated pulling her hair up and putting it back down again many times before she truly ever began. Soon she decided on simple braids she did when she was little. When she finally completed braiding her hair it was pulled back tightly at the front, but the rest she left down in natural waves. Her hair was back to its natural red which Sansa thought made her look younger than she had been in years.

The face she saw when she looked at her reflection seemed vaguely familiar. She had Sansa's hair. She had Sansa's posture and face. But her eyes, Sansa did not recognize her gaze at all. It was empty of all emotions except for apathy. This Sansa did not think a prince would come and solve all her problems. This Sansa knew what it meant to hate someone. This Sansa had malice in her heart, and it could be seen in her eyes.

It's the same vacant look that Theon had in his eyes, and it made Sansa wonder if he could possibly be her key to escaping. Theon couldn't possibly have any love for the Boltons, Sansa thought, and any chance at escape he should take with no reserve. But Sansa didn't want to trust Theon. He betrayed her family and that's something Sansa didn't think she could ever forgive.

She looked herself over once more in the mirror before pasting a smile on her face that even Cersei Lannister would be proud of. The girl in the mirror of Sansa's room looked perfectly happy. What a perfect lie.

* * *

Theon stood in the shadows of the Great Hall. As the Boltons dined, he watched and poured wine into Ramsay's goblet when commanded to. The scene that played out in front of him caused him a great deal of pain.

Being in the same room as Ramsay always brought him back to a memory of pain and an intense amount of fear. But being in the same room as _Sansa Stark_ , that brought back memories of _joy_ , but when he was brought back to the present, it sharply stabbed at his heart. It was quite the spectacle to witness. Roose Bolton was attempting to keep a conversation going with his son about Stannis Baratheon, but it was obvious Ramsay wasn't really invested in what his father was saying. Ramsay was busy trying to hide his glare at lady Walda for discussing her pregnancy with Sansa. Clueless Walda, Theon thought, in blissful ignorance of the threat sitting opposite to her. Well not opposite to her, Theon amended. The threat is hiding in the shadows.

What was the most painful sight was seeing Sansa smile in the midst of the people she hated the most. She seemed interested in what was being said and politely answered the questions that were directed at her, but Theon saw through the ruse, and he was sure everyone else in the room saw through it as well. But to any unassuming watcher it would seem she was at home here.

* * *

Sansa's face was tired. And she was a about five seconds from screaming at lady Bolton to shut her mouth before her ears began to bleed. Her head was pounding and sitting in the warm hall made her want to faint. the only thing giving Sansa a fraction of sanity was the wine in her hand. It tasted like ashes in her mouth, but the slight calmness it brought her made it worth the drink.

Even though it was Walda talking to Sansa, her attention was on Roose and Ramsay. Roose was explaining the intel on Stannis Baratheon's army and how they are no more than a week from Winterfell since word had arrived of their leave from The Wall. But when Walda asked Sansa when she thought she might become with child she nearly choked on her wine, which caused the table to come to a stand still.

"Oh, I'm not sure", Sansa said while trying to keep her voice even.

Her mask fell in that moment but she quickly redirected herself, "But I'm sure it may happen anytime." Sansa clenched her teeth but managed what she hoped was an innocent smile. Truth be told Sansa was terrified. It had crossed her mind more times than she cared to count that she may become pregnant. With Ramsay coming to her nearly every night and fucking her like a dog she was almost surprised she wasn't already.

It was only another reason Sansa needed to leave Winterfell. It seemed that her answer satisfied Roose and Walda but Ramsay wasn't as easily pleased. Although he didn't speak his accusing gaze crawled on Sansa often for the rest of the meal. It unsettled Sansa and made her panic, Ramsay was not someone anyone wanted to upset and Sansa only scratched the surface of what he was capable of.

* * *

The silence that fell after Sansa's outburst left Theon very unsettled. He couldn't pinpoint why but he thought it might have something to do with Sansa herself. She unsettled him. It had been so long since Theon felt protectiveness for anyone but he thought that was what he was feeling.

When he first saw her, ashamed and fearful in a dog kennel, he was positive she would hurt him like Ramsay did. He expected it. Welcomed it hoping it may end his unrelenting guilt for the Starks. She hadn't struck him, and she did not forgive him.

When he saw Sansa he saw hard marble. Polished smooth and cold. She held herself up and walked the halls like she had never left. But beyond her skillfully placed walls Theon saw her frown when she thought no one was watching. It pained him so much to see her in pain because he knew so much of it was because of him.

She hated Theon. She let him know it. But she never struck him. He thought she was going to in the afternoon. She looked both fierce and furious once she realized who had tripped her. She had certainly looked ready to kill him then and there, but she walked past him like he didn't exist. Maybe he didn't, Theon thought darkly. He looked at the table once more.

Roose looked distracted. Walda seemed oblivious to the tension around her. Sansa looked distressed. She tried to direct a new conversation with lady Walda but it quickly ended leaving the room in an eerie silence. She tried to hide it, but failed to disguise her obvious discomfort. Ramsay was studying Sansa with a sickening fascination. He was calculating; a familiar sight to Theon. One that promised pain.

* * *

When Sansa made it to her room, she fell in on herself. She took shallow breaths and tried to collect her composure. Sansa whispered them quietly "Father, mother, Robb…"

Soon her heartbeat slowed and her breaths became more even. However, her head was still spinning with thoughts.

Although the idea of becoming pregnant had crossed Sansa's mind the full weight of what that would mean now struck her to the core. If she became pregnant Sansa would be imprisoned forever. She wouldn't be able bodied enough to escape. Ramsay would truly own her, and that thought made Sansa shudder with disgust. She had to leave.

Sansa still had her candle. She had hidden it in the bottom of her wooden chest for what felt like a lifetime ago. She picked herself off the ground and walked across the room. Standing in front of her chest she opened it. Sansa moved the contents to reveal a small white wax candle. She picked it up gently and inspected it carefully as if it would spill the secret to fleeing WInterfell, and where she should go once she did. But it did no such thing.

She clung to what seemed to be her only hope. Sansa hardly knew what had to be done, but she did know one thing. She could not do it alone. With regret she placed the candle and the contents of her chest back to how they were before.

As she picked herself off the floor once more her door creaked open to reveal a bleary eyed Ramsay.

"Hello, wife." He said with an ironic smile.

Sansa stood dead still hoping that if she stayed docile the less harm would come to her tonight.

"You looked ravishing this evening." Ramsay continued. His words were drenched with suggestivity but also laced with malice. Sansa knew all too well want he wanted and also what he would receive.

He staggered across the floor with an unbalance that alerted Sansa that he was drunk. It wouldn't be the first time, but Sansa was resolved to make it one of the last.

"She wouldn't shut her mouth. Even after stuffing her face with roasted pig, her mouth continued to move, the whore." Ramsay slurred.

Walda, Sansa realized he was talking about.

"Talking of nothing but an unborn child."

He stood directly in front of Sansa and lazily raked his eyes across her form. Instead of tearing her clothes off with a cruel haste, like most nights, he studied Sansa as he had been all evening. Sansa would not quiver in fear of the monster that stood before her, not now. So she forced her eyes up to meet his. What she saw was what she expected. Lust and nothing more.

"I'm going to fuck you until you give her something else to never stop talking about."

Sansa averted her eyes both embarrassed and angry at his callous words.

Then he struck her across the face hard. It stung and Sansa knew there would be a mark in the morning but she would not cower so she brought her face up and looked into his eyes once more.

His pale blue eyes were penetrating and dared Sansa to react but she would never give him the satisfaction. Sansa hated the Boltons and the man that stood in front of her was no exception. But for a few moments with his eyes locked on hers Sansa could almost pretend that they belonged to anyone and not bastard that stood before her. Then he broke the tension by telling Sansa to do something he told her to do every night.

"Turn around."

And Sansa turned around because tonight she wouldn't fight. She tried last night and it backfired terribly.

Any level of control Ramsay seemed to have before had disappeared the second Sansa turned. His hands began undoing her dress with great speed which Sansa hoped it meant it would be over soon. Once Sansa's dress slipped off her shoulders Ramsay's hands roamed her skin. Each time he fondled her breasts, it made Sansa want to spit the bile that rose in her throat in his face. Soon his hands moved down. He placed them on her waist, just above where her dress clung to. He slowly brought her dress to the floor while never taking his hands off her making Sansa involuntarily shiver. She tried to bring her arms up to cover herself but Ramsay quickly grabbed her arms and brought them to her sides. A single tear rolled down Sansa's cheek. She hated the man behind her, she hated feeling so weak.

He moved her onto her bed just like on their wedding night, and he fucked Sansa till she was too numb to cry any more. He was never gentle as he thrust in and out of Sansa. She felt so completely used and weak but it was over quickly. Once Ramsay left, Sansa lay on the cool stone floor naked.

"Father." She softly whimpered.

"Mother." With a bit more force.

"Robb." She said with force but still barely above a whisper.

"Arya." Her voice cracked, for Sansa wished, even still, that she could hug her little sister. And also beg forgiveness for belittling Arya, which now seemed so shallow and vain to Sansa.

"Bran… Rickon." She continued. She said their names with reverence but her thoughts were full of repeated anger. _Theon Greyjoy,_ she thought bitterly.

As she dressed for bed and lay down for another night of restless sleep she knew two things. She would escape.

She would leave this place and never return until every Bolton was dead. Sansa knew she would rather burn in the stomach of a dragon before clinging to this life. This cage of lies and blood and ghosts. _I will leave._ Sansa thought with resolution.

She also knew this: _Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Isles would indeed sow_.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sansa was running. At first she was running to nothing but light and emptiness. As she ran the light merged into forest. She realized as she went that her dress was torn and caked with mud and blood. Her hair was knotted and wild, flying behind her in fiery tangles._

 _She didn't know what she was running from but her feet kept moving her towards something unknown. The forest was expanding as she went along and seemed endless until Sansa came to a halt by the waters of a lake that appeared from nowhere._

 _Across the waters was a direwolf. Not just any direwolf, but Lady!_

 _She seemed slightly different though Sansa realized. Lady looked less soft and gentle, she looked angry. Sansa tried to call out to her lost friend but no sound came._

 _She tried to move her legs but, they would not bend. Her eyes began to sting with unshed tears as she looked down. In the water of the lake Lady's eyes gazed back at Sansa. Sansa blinked and in that time the animal looking at Sansa was no longer Lady, but one of Ramsay's bloodthirsty dogs. Before Sansa could scream the dog lunged from the reflection to tear Sansa's throat out._

Sansa woke with a start. Her eyes felt heavy and her skin was lightly coated in sweat. She realized she had been crying when she felt her damp cheeks. Sansa could hardly believe she dreamed about Lady. For what felt like ages she had only ever dreamt of one thing. Her father.

Not the good memories of her father. Not of the stories he used to tell her. Not of the lemon cakes he snuck for her behind mother's back. Not any of the good memories; good memories were for the day. At night Sansa's dreams remembered something she would never forget.

The blood. The bone. The crowds shrieks of joy. Joffrey's eyes alight with bliss. And her father's head rolling in a pool of his own blood, while her face was swimming through tears. This is what Sansa dreamed about. Not forests and Lady and Ramsay's dogs.

It was early in the morning. The sun was barely up, but her room was illuminated by the snow reflecting the soft glowing light through her window. She reached up wipe what tears were left on her face. She sucked in a breath at the sharp and then dull pain on her cheek. Sansa didn't need to look in a mirror; she already knew what she would see. Ramsay had given Sansa another bruise to add to the ones that trailed down her arms and legs.

Sansa decided today she would no longer cry in Winterfell. She had a plan to escape and no one would stop her. She got out of bed and walked to the chest to retrieve her candle. Her last hope. A moment of unadulterated doubt stopped Sansa cold. Then she berated herself. She needed to be completely sure of herself or she would never do what she must. It was that moment that Theon unlocked the door and walked into Sansa's room with a tray of warm bread and hard cheese. Sansa, never was one to be timid, but for a split second that trickle of doubt took her again. _Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Isles shall sow_ , she reminded herself. As he placed her food on her table she burst out desperate words.

"Help me!" He looked at Sansa like she shot him with a crossbow. She was standing in the shadows and him in the light of the room but her words echoed in both spaces.

"Help me escape Theon Greyjoy." She started but _Reek_ wouldn't listen.

"Reek! My name is Reek! Your _his_ wife now. You can't leave. He won't let you. He'll hurt you."

Words she only let herself think came spilling out without her consent.

"What did he do to you?" She took tentative step toward him, bringing her out of the shadows. In the light he could probably see how beaten she looked which made Sansa blush but she would not back down now.

"He hurts me every day. I'm trapped in here day and night and he comes. He comes every night and hurts me, Theon. It cannot get any worse."

His voice becomes quiet but very certain when he said, "It can always get worse."

Who are you, she wondered silently. She had known Theon her whole life and this man before her was one she had never met.

Theon looked ready to bolt for the door and when he did Sansa quickly ran to stand in his way.

"Help me, Theon. I still have friends in the north. Take this candle and light it in the window of the Broken Tower."

"My name is Reek!" He said with a look of fear so great Sansa only wished she didn't understand.

"No it is not." She said with conviction.

"Your name is Theon. Theon of house Greyjoy. You are the last surviving son of Balon Greyjoy. Do you hear me?"

He was shaking but looking at her truly.

"Help me, Theon. Promise me you will. Promise me."

She took his shaking hands and placed the candle in them. Theon stood there looking at Sansa and Sansa looking back. Then with a small nod he left locking the door once more. She realized now that she probably looked incredibly foolish. Begging Ramsay's abused dog to save her. But a smile played on Sansa's lips for by this time two days pass she could be free.

* * *

Theon stood for a moment outside of Sansa's door trembling. She didn't hurt him. She stood there and told him things that Ramsay made him forget. Things he didn't dare think.

 _Your name is Theon._

It rang in his ears as he hurried through the halls.

 _Reek, your name is Reek! He'll find out and then you and Sansa will both pay dearly. You can't do this. He'll find out._

His mind was in turmoil. Contradicting each thought with another more convincing than the first.

 _Sansa needs you._

 _Ramsay will kill us._

 _What else do you have to lose?_

 _Where would you go?_

 _You could be free…_

Back and forth his thoughts turned with no clarity. His hands clenched the candle as if it was the only thing tethering him to sanity. Theon walked wherever his feet took him, and before he knew it he was walking down the corridor that lead to Ramsay's study. He stopped abruptly as shame washed over him. How could he betray another Stark, he wondered?

He stood there idly not choosing a course of action at all.

 _If I help Sansa I could be free…_

It occurred to Theon that if He didn't help Sansa many things would befall them both. Theon would murder Walda and her unborn child. He would also have to watch as the last Stark of Winterfell slowly but truly yielded to the Boltons. Sansa would bore Ramsay an heir and become miserable or dead.

Theon had almost made up his mind to turn around and light the candle in The Broken Castle when he remembered why he couldn't do it.

A tremor seized Theon. If they were ever caught…

He remembered the agony. How could he forget with scars that marked his body and the parts missing as well?

Dark. Light. Blood. Torture. Ramsay. Blood. Sleepless nights. Excruciating days. Raw muscles and ripped skin. Festering wounds fixed one day for another to be created the next. It all comes back in one torturous flash that leaves Theon curling in on himself again.

He breathed in and out till his breaths became even. However his heart was beating rapidly within his chest. He realized he had coiled himself against the walls of the corridor.

 _Shame, shame, shame..._

He felt empty of everything except shame.

He couldn't let Sansa get caught trying to escape.

 _It can always be worse..._

Ramsay taught him that, and he would never let him teach Sansa the same.

He clenched the candle once more anchoring himself to one promise he would keep.

 _Keep the Stark safe._

He would do whatever it took. Her hatred. Ramsay's torture. Anything. That's what he told himself as he picked himself off the floor. He failed them all but he wouldn't fail her.

 _Keep the Stark safe._

Theon opened Ramsay's door.

 **A/N:** A billion apologies for not posting a new chapter in forever! I promise to make up for it I'll be putting chapter 5 up within this week so watch out for it. Thank you for continuing to read this story it's very similar to the tv show's plot right now, but I promise it becomes it's own as the chapters progress. Please please please leave a review! It would mean so much and for all you new followers thank you so much!


	5. Chapter 5

Sansa didn't know what to expect when one of Ramsay's guards came to her chambers informing her that Ramsay requested her presence immediately.

Part of her dreaded that he knew her plans to escape. And another simply dreaded for Theon. What if he was caught? Did she doom them both?

As Sansa, and now two guards, weaved through the halls she pointedly raised her head high, hoping it would conceal all the terror she felt inside. She had assumed they would take her to Ramsay's study, but instead they took her down the corridor which led outside. This both peaked Sansa's curiosity, and heightened her fear.

Once the cold winds caressed her face, Sansa's spirits rose. Snow fell onto her cheeks like a gentle kiss. This made Sansa, above all things, feel at home.

As Sansa's surroundings began to surface each detail came in slow and horrific waves. She smelled flesh. And blood. It sent her almost back in time, to King's Landing where the crowds yelled with joy, when her father was killed.

She saw Ramsay beaming at her which instantly made Sansa hesitate. Nothing pleasant ever came with a smile like that. It was uncanny how much it reminded her of Joffrey, who at this moment, almost seemed preferable to face.

Once her eyes scanned the entirety of the courtyard Sansa realized why she was brought this way. The lady who had given Sansa her candle was hanging in the center of the courtyard without a shred of skin left on her body.

Sansa's head started to spin. She wondered if Theon was caught, or if Ramsay was just simply that perceptive. When Ramsay seemed to notice her immediate panic, his all too cheery tone shattered the quiet.

"Your friend screamed to the very last moments. I was expecting more from a northerner, but I guess it's only the cold that your skin is impenetrable against."

She must be very cold now, Sansa thought. Looking up upon her face it struck her how many times she had seen innocent slain by monsters that controlled her life.

"Reek told me you wanted to leave?"

Her blood turned to ice the second he said those words. It was then that she realized across the courtyard stood Theon. His face downcast and shoulders sagging in a feeble position.

 _Traytor! Nothing but a bug beneath Ramsay's boot. I shouldn't have trusted him. The bastard!_

Only that morning Sansa promised to never cry again until she escaped but a tear escaped. It was one lonely single tear that she refused to wipe from her face.

Ramsay began again.

"Why would you want to leave your home?"

He said the words with no concealment of the mockery behind them.

"You can't leave. You belong to me. Winterfell belongs to us."

Sansa looked to the skinned woman who had been so kind. Who paid so much. She looked at her once more. When Ramsay realized Sansa would not gratify him with a response, he kiss her cheek and left with no more than a command for her to be taken back to her chambers. And there she cried until she could not anymore.

* * *

Theon had stood in the snow alone. The woman who Ramsay had personally skinned would haunt him for longer than he was ready to bare. Simply another spirit who would plague him for eternity.

Ramsay had made him watch. Ramsay had learned that physically harming Theon, could only hurt him so much anymore. He knew it was seeing others suffer for him that was his undoing.

Ramsay had lied about the woman's screaming. She had barely uttered a sound. She cried, but it was silent and resolved.

 _She was more brave in one moment than I in my whole life._

Theon had accomplished what he had set out to do. Stop Sansa from getting killed. He had saved the Stark. He had doomed himself.

He pulled from his tunic the candle Sansa had entrusted to him. A symbol of hope that he threw back in her face with betrayal. Yet, even still he would do it again.

As he walked his way back towards the kennels Theon found someone waiting for him in the shadows.

"Lord Ramsay wishes to speak with you, pet."

Myranda, Ramsay's mistress, stepped out from the shadows revealing her wicked smile. She was like a flea to Theon. Afflicting him with pain in Ramsay's stead.

Today she seemed more pleased with herself than usual. A sadistic sort of pleasure that one would gain from killing.

Theon never felt at ease whenever Myranda was around. She was clearly a jealous fool when it came to Sansa, and just a regular fool when it came to Ramsay. She was a storm ready to wreak havoc whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He begrudgingly allowed her to lead him to Ramsay, for what he could only imagine.

It was now dark enough in the halls that Theon and Myranda walked with a small candle with light creating shadows on the walls as they went. They reached the door leading into Ramsay's study and both entered. Once in Ramsay's study Theon realized Myranda wouldn't be leaving. Whatever Ramsay had to say, it was apparently for both of their ears.

"Twenty men," Ramsay began, "that is how Stannis Baratheon will fall tonight."

Stannis's army had been coming for Winterfell for weeks now, but they were finally on its doorstep. They would be here by tomorrow morning. What Ramsay said made no sense to Theon at all, but he wouldn't dare to speak.

"Tomorrow he will either run or try to lay siege on Winterfell. In both cases he will fail. Run and we will go after until there is not a single man left for Stannis to lead. If he tries to lay siege, he will be met with disappointment. He will not lay siege on Winterfell because we will go out meet him in battle. But tonight my men will ride out and burn Stannis's supplies and kill his men so they will fear the next day."

Theon hated that these words almost inspired him. They sounded crazy but true. Ramsay sounded perhaps naively sure of his plan but Theon didn't think he was wrong.

Still unsure why Ramsay wanted Theon to hear all this, he waited patiently for what surely would bring him no good.

"Tomorrow Winterfell will be in high distraction. People will be hiding. People will be dying. And you _Reek_ will be killing lady Walda with this."

Ramsay pulled from a sheath an elegant dagger. He handed it to Theon where he could closely see its detail. It wasn't a nothern blade, that Theon knew for certain. It was adorned with gold and roses on its hilt. It was southern, but Theon did not understand why Ramsay had selected such a weapon for this purpose.

"It is a dagger from King's Landing. One that was brought back with Sansa Stark. A pretty blade don't you think, Reek?"

Theon's body tensed at the now implied truths, Ramsay revealed. But why would Ramsay want to frame Sansa for murder? She was his key to Winterfell.

"Why m' lord?" Theon had to ask. He needed to know what Ramsay could possibly gain. Ramsay grinned wide like Theon was a child who had just answered a difficult question correctly.

"The answer to that is quite simple. I need lady Walda's unborn child dead. I need there to be a reason why she's dead that doesn't involve my hands. I clearly have the most to gain from the pregnant woman's death, but who also has something to gain from that as well? Winterfell was Sansa's home, she would not give it up so easily. If lady Walda produces an heir, Winterfell will be gone to Sansa."

The reason for using Sansa's dagger soon became clearer than glass. He would have Sansa blamed for Walda's death and killed. That would give Ramsay the only claim to Winterfell.

This also explained Myranda's joyous attitude. She was beaming like somehow this meant that Ramsay would make her more than just his mistress. It made Theon want to rip the smile right off her face.

"Tomorrow when you go to bring Sansa her food, leave her door unlocked, but without her knowledge. So she will have no claim of confinement during Walda's death. Myranda will go with you tomorrow to make sure nothing goes amiss. Tomorrow everything will be right," He said with a solemn quietness that had been absent before. He didn't smile either.

"Now leave and do what must be done." Ramsay dismissed both Theon and Myranda.

Theon hid the dagger under his tunic and left without looking back. He had yet again become forced to choose whether or not he valued his life. This time the answer wasn't so clear.

 _I am spineless. A worm. A traitor. Am I ready to die?_

What he was going to do wasn't any clearer by the time he had to bring Sansa her evening meal. With Ramsay away and battle preparations being made the formality of dinner in the Great Hall seemed unnecessary.

However for Theon this meant having to be in the same room as Sansa Stark. The look on her face when Ramsay told her of his betrayal pierced him deeper than any arrow ever could.

But what racked his thoughts was this: she had actually trusted _him_ to save her.

* * *

Sansa waited. She had been waiting for hours. She knew he would come. What she hadn't decided was how she would kill him. First Theon, and then Ramsay when he returned. She had no weapons but she had enough burning rage inside of her to desecrate a city. She knew she could strangle Ramsay right now if his guard was down for even a moment.

Sansa knew she wasn't thinking clearly, and that she needed her wits about her now more than ever. But she felt delirious and unstoppable.

She couldn't stop thinking of ways to escape. All of them were impossible and would get her killed before she made it out into the courtyard, but she couldn't stop trying to imagine being free.

So she paced in her small room. Before long she had calmed down considerably. The sun had set an hour ago, yet Theon had not come like she had expected. She started to wonder if she would eat at all or if Ramsay had ordered that she be starved as punishment.

It wasn't the food though that she needed to see. She needed to know why Theon had done what he did. It didn't make sense. He had to hate Ramsay. He had to hate it here as much as Sansa.

 _Perhaps he no longer can tell the difference between friend and foe? Or perhaps he is no longer man enough to stand against his enemies._

Sansa's thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of Theon unlocking her door. Her breath quickened and her anger came back in blinding waves, but she only had one thought echoing repeatedly.

 _Why? Why? Why?_

He walked in without a pause. His steps were swift as he kept his eyes on the ground. Once he placed the tray on her table he looked up at Sansa.

"Why?" She asked flatly. "Why _Theon_?" She said his name with disgust. She wanted to remind him who he was, and to make him weep with regret and shame. He turned his head back down.

"To protect you…"

He said it so softly Sansa had questioned whether or not she imagined him saying so. The she laughed. It was a cold and detached laugh.

"Protect me," she spat. "How can one justify your betrayal as protection, _Reek_? How shall you defend your _valiant rescue_? Was it protection, or was it just weakness?"

Her words clearly cut Theon deeply for his face showed only anguish. But Sansa had ice in her veins.

"You are pathetic. Why Ramsay has let you live I can only imagine is because he needs a leashed pet to lick his boots and catch his prey, you piece of shit."

With each sentence, Sansa seemed to hit marks that she couldn't see, but Theon seemed to feel. His face crumpled, and for a moment Sansa felt regret, but she would not stop until he was as broken as she.

"I trusted you. Above my better judgement, I thought perhaps I could depend on someone who may hate Ramsay more than me. But you betrayed me. No, not just me, but us Theon. My whole family you betrayed and killed us! They are dead because of you!" She practically shouted. "You betrayed us all!"

This was apparently the tipping point for Theon. A few tears fell down his cheeks. His face looked destroyed. The pain so raw Sansa was surprised to find a few tears running down her face as well.

They stood but a few feet apart, tears entwined, with a pain unfathomable to any other souls.

Theon's voice sounded deep and gravely. As though it hadn't been used in eons when he spoke after what felt like immeasurable silence.

"If I could change one thing I have ever done, it would be leaving Robb Stark." He said it in a way that made Sansa think he said it more for himself than for her.

"I've done things only a coward could do. Betraying Robb, killing those boys.."

This sparked Sansa's anger once more.

"They weren't 'those boys' Theon, they were Bran and Rickon. They were your brothers, you've known them since they were born."

"They were only-" Then he stopped as though he knew to say anymore may mean his death. Sansa was outraged. How dare he disown her family like they were an infection he needed to purge himself from!

"Only what?" She demanded.

"I can't" He replied fearfully.

"Tell me."

"I can't! Reek cannot unless the Master says-"

"Tell me! They weren't what?" As she stepped closer and shouted at him.

"They weren't-"

"Tell me why Bran and Rickon should be gone while you still breathe the air. Tell me to my face Theon!" She grabbed both sides of his face in her hands and made him look into her eyes. He looked so afraid and surprised by her touch.

"Tell me they weren't your brothers-!"

"They weren't Bran and Rickon!" Theon said with a force that shook Sansa to her core.

She let go of Theon's face and took a shaky step back. She was breathless and unable to speak for fear her ears deceiving her. If Theon didn't kill her brothers were they alive? Was she truly not the last Stark in Westeros?

"Where are they, Theon?"

"I don't know. When I was searching for the boys...I couldn't find them. There was a farm and two farmer boys. Both younger than Bran. Both braver than I. I killed them both." He said with self loathing.

Sansa couldn't believe it. For so long she had ached for the death of her entire family and now she may have a chance to see her brothers again.

Theon looked at Sansa with open curiosity. She was smiling. Smiling for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. It broke open her face to reveal a joy she thought long extinguished.

She wasn't the last Stark. She had hope again.

"You need to help me escape."

But the open curiosity and truth he had before seemed to have disappeared as though it were never there in the first place. His eyes sparked with confliction. He opened his mouth as if to say something but shook his head.

"I'm sorry." He replied with a sadness, Sansa could not comprehend.

Theon reached for Sansa's hand, and to her own surprise, she didn't flinch away from his touch. His hands were dry, warm, and calloused. He reached into his tunic and pulled out the white candle she had given to him that morning.

He placed it gently into the palm of her hand. Then he left. Without another word, he was gone, but he had left Sansa with more than she could ever hope for.

 _Father, mother, Robb, Arya...Bran and Rickon?_

Theon, had given Sansa a key to escaping even if he had yet to realize it. He had given her hope. A plan was forming in Sansa's mind.

One that seemed to lay bare before her in the softly lit room that had been her prison for far too long.

 **A/N:** Here's chapter 5 as promised! Seriously every follow/fav/review makes me smile for weeks guys. Your support and love of this story mean the world, and I love hearing what your favorite parts are. It may be while before I can post another chapter but for now I hope this will tie you over.


	6. Chapter 6

Theon balked at the first rays of sunlight that streamed lazily across the sky. He had hardly slept. He hardly ever slept. That night he strayed between thoughts of Sansa and death. They seemed so closely linked, now more than ever.

He lay curled in the kennels hoping desperately that if he closed his eyes again he would go far away from where he was. He opened his eyes after moments had passed, and sadly found himself exactly where he was before. However, someone had silently come into his kennel without his knowledge in that time.

Myranda stood at its entrance with another horrid smile that Theon realized made her look just as dangerous as Ramsay.

He knew why she was there. She was there to make him doom two innocent women. Myranda was ready to tell Ramsay's dog to go kill.

Theon had become so many things.

A traitor.

A murderer.

A liar.

Even one of Ramsay's dogs.

 _Am I ready to die?_

"Are you ready, pet?" Myranda asked coyly.

Theon walked out into the moist morning air less ready than he had ever been before.

* * *

Sansa awoke with apprehension and fear filling her quarters. Doubt, her ever present companion, embraced her in the first hours of dawn. Her plan was a shot into darkness, but Sansa had her candle. She had hope. She was ready.

* * *

 _Don't look her in the eye._

Theon walked into Sansa's room with Myranda waiting for him in the corridor adjacent to the one that lead to her chambers.

Theon kept his head low and placed probably the last tray of food down for Sansa Stark.

 _Don't look._

Theon looked. Sansa was wearing a warm grey dress and her hair braided up the same way she had it as a girl. It looked like fire, and was light in a room so desolate of life and color.

 _She looks like her mother._ Theon noticed.

Sansa didn't glance Theon's direction once. She stood by her window and watched the commotion of the courtyard below.

He stood there watching. Not daring to disturb the beauty in the silence.

 _Save the Stark?_

 _Am I ready to be a martyr?_

Theon took one last look at the Stark and turned his back on her. Then, before he reached her door, Sansa spoke.

"Thank you."

His conscience snapped. A heavy weight of guilt crushed Theon.

 _Would I ever be clean of conscience when it comes to the Starks?_

He left without glancing back, or uttering a word. He closed Sansa's door. He stood transfixed by the same fork in the road, that had come once again in full circle.

All Theon had to do was leave the door as it was. Unlocked. Unsuspecting.

 _Shame. Shame. Shame!_

If he left now he would live.

 _Traitor… Traitor… Traitor!_

He was consumed with fear and guilt and death. He clung desperately to life, and yet it betrayed him so callously.

 _As you callously betrayed the Starks._ He thought.

Then as if his hands were no longer within his control he reached out and locked the door. His hands shook, but he did it with no more wavering thoughts. He would die but Ramsay would burn with him.

Theon did not know what would become of Sansa, but he wouldn't stain his hands with another Stark's blood.

So he walked away; to his death, but also towards redemption.

* * *

A cloak, a candle, and a corkscrew. She hardly wasted a second after she heard the door close behind Theon. She took the corkscrew from the tray he placed down for her for the last time and held it tightly.

She could hardly wait another moment inside the confinements of her room, but she knew she would be caught if she did not. So she waited with her ear pressed to her door; waiting for silence to befall the halls.

Once she heard nothing at all, she began working on the door handle with her corkscrew. Picking locks was never something Sansa had been good at; it was Arya who had been able to open any door.

She wished now more than ever to have asked Arya to teach her how to pick a lock or use a sword. And how to do many things she had thought useless to a lady before.

But Sansa didn't need to pick a lock, she just needed to break down the door handle. She shoved the corkscrew into the keyhole and twisted with the intent of ruining the handle. And ruin it she did.

Sansa pushed and pulled on the weakened door handle but it would not come off. She looked around frustrated. Her eyes landed on the small vanity in the corner of her room. On it was a small metal jewelry chest. She didn't hesitate. She emptied its contents and then smashed it against the handle as hard as she could.

Within moments the door's handle fell off and outward. She pushed the door and walked outside looking out with caution. She took back her corkscrew as a weapon she was ready to use.

She pulled her hood up and walked swiftly through the halls not making eye contact with a single soul. There wasn't many people throughout the hallways, but once she was out in the courtyard there were people moving from one place to another helping prepare to fight Stannis's army that had come.

No one looked Sansa's way as she passed the kennels into Godswood. From there Sansa made her way passing the North gate and the crypts to the Broken Tower. She moved with confidence; not a step unfamiliar to her feet.

Once she reached the opening to the tower she lit her candle and waited. She waited for a sign, a signal, anything. As time dragged on Sansa's confidence wavered. She couldn't wait for someone to find her room empty. She couldn't stay in a tower with a light showing anyone who passed by where she was. Immediately she felt foolish. She was wasting time standing and waiting for someone to save her.

But no one gets saved in a world where little girls see their father's head severed from their body. No, Sansa knew deep down no one would come for her. No one ever had, no one ever would.

Her mind was reeling and she wondered if she could manage to simply walk out of Winterfell just as she had walked out of her room. It appeared too plain to consider possible, but then again Sansa was ready to die trying.

She left the tower and tried to calm her steps and she made her way towards the East Gate, an easy exit place. Although it wasn't from where she was then Sansa knew the likeliness of her being seen by someone who'd recognize her would heighten.

So she pulled her cloak tighter to her face and walked.

* * *

 _SHIT._

Theon thought he had gone insane. Surly he had to be. He could not be seeing Sansa Stark walking through the Great Keep. He had locked her door. He had secured her safety and now she was walking only yards away from him and Myranda.

His hope of Myranda not spotting her was short lived as he looked towards her, her eyes gleamed and with a biting smile she looked ecstatic.

Her eyes followed Sansa.

So did his.

Theon couldn't tell where she was trying to go. She went pass a wagon and two dogs fighting over a bone. Then suddenly she took steps leading up by the East Gate.

Myranda appeared to know Sansa's destination, for she hurried up steps as well while pulling an arrow from its quiver. Theon followed her. She stopped abruptly still smiling.

Myranda stood now with an arrow pulled taunt, waiting for Sansa. Theon prayed for gods to turn Sansa from this outer curtain wall.

As if by thinking her name he made her appear, Sansa walked quickly through a door right into Myranda and himself. She froze with open fear. Her cheeks flushed and eyes moving back and forth between him and Myranda.

"My lady, I've come to escort you back to your chamber." Myranda spoke in a sardonically pleasant voice.

"Go with her...please." Theon managed. If she left with Myranda now maybe, just maybe, he could still save her. She glared at him and he couldn't face her anger.

Sansa although frightened, did not shrink at the sight of either of them. She raised her chin high.

"I know what Ramsay is… I know what he'll do to me. If I am going to die let it happen while there is still some of me left."

Theon knew she was referring to him. Ramsay would take her and ruin everything that made her Sansa Stark. Just as he was _Reek_ , she would become something else.

Myranda lowered her bow slightly, smile still intact.

"Die? Who said anything about dying? You can't die little wolf, Ramsay needs you, well not all of you I supose. Just the parts to produce his heir. Once you've given him that though...Oh he'll have fun with the the other parts...

So should we wait for him to come back or should we begin now?" She said raising her bow once more.

Now Sansa looked terrified. She didn't say a word, only breathed audibly in and out. This only furthering Myranda's glee. She took Sansa's silence as victory.

"You're leaving it to me to decide. Good. Let's begin."

Myranda pulled her arrow back tighter. Theon didn't think at all. He saw Sansa. He saw her give up to Myranda without fighting back, just as he had with Ramsay. He had only one promise left to keep. Protect the Stark.

He didn't think; he grabbed Myranda's arm causing her to let her arrow fly, missing Sansa by a foot. Myranda let out a sound of fury and surprize.

" _Reek_! _Stop_!" she shrieked as he pushed her off the wall. Both Sansa and Theon looked down as she fell. She hit the ground with a crack. She didn't move at all.

He looked on with shock. He didn't think at all, he just did. And now Theon was terrified.

 _What have I done?_

Horns sound followed by "Open the gate!" not far away. Ramsay's men were back which meant he would not be far behind.

Theon looked at Sansa and she looked back.

"He's coming back." Theon said. They both knew who.

He grabbed her hand and ran with her up more steps further from the gate. They turned reaching the end of the curtain wall with the First Keep's turret. Theon let go of Sansa's hand and stepped onto the walls edge facing outside Winterfell.

She didn't hesitate to join him on the edge. They both looked down at the snow that somehow, even though most had melted, was there, and it could save their lives.

Theon looked at Sansa, and Sansa looked back to him.

He reached out his hand to her's. She took his hand in her's and held tightly. they both looked down without looking back.

 _If I am going to die, have it be now while there is still some of me left…_

With his thoughts on Sansa's words they both jumped. Hands still entwined they didn't let go. Two caged birds flew towards the ground; free at last.

 **A/N: Long time no post! Well here it is, another chapter. I hope you all liked it because I really like it and I'm really excited about where this story is going to be headed after here, so please comment what your thoughts are, follow and favorite if you like my story because I promise it's only going to get more awesome from here.**


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa had fallen once when she was a little girl. Arya had been chasing her and playing hide and find, as they used to before she grew out of such things. Sansa had wanted to find a place Arya would never catch her. She had ran to the kennels thinking Arya would never expect Sansa to go somewhere with such a stench.

When Sansa came to the kennels she realized she didn't want to hide in such a dirty place, but she found a ladder leading above the kennels. Sansa had never like heights much, but she wanted to impress Arya, by climbing higher than she ever had. So Sansa started to ascend one step at a time. The higher Sansa got the more excited she felt.

She felt powerful and free and tall. She wondered what it might be like to fly. She had climbed about halfway up the ladder when she heard Arya shouting her name from below. Sansa was surprised and turned around looking down for the first time.

She realized just how high she had come, and Sansa was terrified. Wanting to go back down, Sansa took a shaking step back, but she missed the step by a hair, which caused her to trip. She fell backwards, and for a split second the breath from her lungs seemed to vanish. There was nothing beneath her but air. She didn't feel like she was flying at all. When she hit the ground her arm began screaming with pain.

She couldn't see clearly because tears had begun to cloud her vision. Arya ran screaming for Father, and Sansa lay down wishing she had never laid eyes upon the ladder.

* * *

Sansa was falling now. Not backwards or by accident. She was falling with her hands tightly interlocked with Theon Greyjoy's. He had seen her that day she fell. He had came with Robb to wish her swift recovery, for she had in fact broken her arm.

He was here now falling with her to their possible deaths. The same breathless feeling overtook Sansa's senses again as there was nothing beneath their bodies but air and snow. She closed her eyes and waited for the ground. When they collided with the snow Sansa felt jolted everywhere at once. Her body ached, but she was _alive_.

Sansa opened her eyes. She couldn't believe it, they made it. _They_. _Theon_. She looked to her right, and realized she had let go of his hand. He lay only a body distance away, but she didn't see him move at all. Her breath caught once again, but this time for a completely different reason.

 _No, no, no,no! Don't be dead, please don't be dead!_

"Theon?" She asked in a hushed scream. She crawled the distance between them and placed her hands on his shoulders. His eyes were closed, and even still, he did not move. Sansa placed her ear to his chest. The panic that had taken her moments before vanished at the constant beat beneath her head.

 _He is alive._

"Theon, please wake up! Theon, we can not stay here!" She continued to quietly plead while shaking him harsher them she intended.

His eyes flew open and he looked dazed and confused about where he was for a split second. Sansa let him go and moved away to give him room. As she stood, he too began to stir as well, but tentatively.

When Theon stood he seemed to be fine, but Sansa worried he would fall over, but they didn't have time to worry. More horns sounded, announcing that even more troops had returned from the battle. Sansa and Theon didn't need to say a word. They both knew what would be coming for them sooner rather than later if they didn't leave.

Sansa looked his way and he looked hers. Pale green eyes reflecting back at her, they held the same fear she felt. Sansa and Theon didn't utter a sound, but both took each other's hand once more. And they ran; they ran straight north into Wolfswood.

The trees loomed menacingly above their heads. Clouds had shrouded the skies, and in the forest it had become dark and dreary. Theon had let go of Sansa's hand, but he never ran far from her side. The wood's floor was mucky from the melted snow, and caused each step to cake their boots with more mud.

Sansa became quickly weary. With no one in sight she asked Theon for rest. They came to a halt in a grove with thick foliage. Sansa felt dizzy with adrenaline and took concentrated breaths to slow the pounding of her heart.

She looked over towards Theon to see how he was faring. He stood alert and frightened, twitching his head in every direction there was a noise.

"Rest Theon, we shall be off again shortly. For now rest, you'll need it before the day is done."

He looked at Sansa with confusion and frustration.

"We can't stay here. Master-

Ramsay-

He is coming. He won't come with just men. He will send his animals. I've heard them hunt before once. The screams wouldn't stop. We can not stay."

His words brought a palpable silence to the woods that was not present before. His words shook her. Sansa had heard Ramsay's wretched dogs from her room once, making the most vicious and miserable sounds when Ramsay had them underfed before a hunt. She imagined them now ripping her flesh apart and shuddered not wanting to stay standing any longer.

And like that, they ran deeper into the woods, running faster than before.

* * *

Ramsay looked down upon Myranda's broken body. Her head twisted at an unnatural angle, and arms sprawled out in front of her. Laying on her stomach with blood, both fresh and dried, surrounding and crowning her head.

A smile was missing from her lips, replaced with a grimace that marred her features. When Ramsay had returned a watchman had come to his side immediately saying much had taken place shortly before their arrival.

Myranda had been found dead and Sansa Stark missing from her chambers. Ramsay had sent the watchman to find Reek, but he too had been found to be missing. All of Winterfell was in chaos. Guards and soldiers searched for the Stark girl and Reek, while servants and others searched to see that no one they knew was gone as well. Ramsay was seething with rage once he was called to the Great Hall to find his father, lord Bolton, and lady Walda at his side completely unharmed.

"How fares the search for Sansa Stark?" Lord Bolton inquired.

"There has been no sight of her, father." Ramsay replied tightly.

"She must be found soon. She is the key to Winterfell and our only true claim to keeping the northerners on our side; without her, most will abandon their allegiance to us."

"I'll find her father, I swear it will be done."

 _And I'll find Reek too, to make him suffer a thousand deaths._ He thought sadistically.

A guard strode in with new information regarding Sansa's escape. It would seem that two fresh sets of footprints led straight into the Wolfswood starting at the bottom of a wall near the Broken Tower. And just like that Ramsay was no longer upset. In fact he became increasingly happy as he made his way to the kennels.

He hadn't prepared his dogs for a hunt, but they were always ready for a chase. Ramsay was now excited, just as he was after his victory that morning. He took four men with him on horseback they rode. His hounds quickly picked up Sansa and Reek's scent and ran into the Wolfswood with the wind to their backs, and he and his men not far behind.

* * *

It didn't take long before Sansa and Theon saw remnants of the battle that had taken place hours before. The deeper they went the more bodies they found. Although the thought of resting didn't appeal to Sansa she needed to, and she could tell Theon did as well.

So her and Theon came to another halt with corpses for company. Neither Sansa or Theon spoke; both afraid to draw any attention to themselves, even though there was only the dead to listen. Theon bent down by a dead soldier, a Baratheon soldier, Sansa guessed by the armor.

Sansa strode to Theon's side wondering why he would get closer. The soldier's left arm was severed and lay by his side. In his right hand a bow. Theon took the bow from his hand and held it close like one would a lost friend.

Sansa remembered how Theon loved to hunt and show off his archery skills. He had a true aim that none could compare to, not even Robb. A memory came to her suddenly of her brother and Theon competing against one another.

Arya didn't want to watch them, she had wanted to join them so she had left stirring trouble somewhere else. But Sansa had stayed content watching their arrows fly towards their mark.

Robb was skilled, there was no doubt, but Theon was a master. His arrows never missed where he set them too. Robb had become rather cross when he wagered that Theon couldn't hit a bird in mid air.

Sansa remembered Theon telling Robb cockily to pick any bird in all of Westeros' sky. Robb had chosen the first bird that crossed the sky. It was a crow, black as soot. Theon had taken his aim and shot the crow like it was easier than breathing air. Robb had been bitter for days, but soon after asked Theon to show him how to shoot like that. They were brothers, and brothers forgave.

Coming out of her reverie, Sansa watched Theon hold the bow, and felt that perhaps it truly was an old friend of his. One that he had missed dearly.

 _Maybe he too is thinking of Robb and those times so long ago._

He stood and turned to face her, and he looked different, almost happy. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips, but he didn't smile quite yet.

Instead he said, "We should find you a weapon as well. It wouldn't do you good to be without one." Serious once again, "If we live long enough to be on the road for weeks, we will surely be met by people who would do us both harm if we aren't careful." His voice was hushed and raw, eyes once again alert, wandering, waiting for something to show itself.

Sansa nodded her head in agreement. _If we live long enough…_

Sansa looked around her searching for a weapon to suit her, but she found her eyes drawn to the corpses. She shivered, but she didn't feel cold. Her eyes found a boy. Dead and pale. He looked no older than bran did when Sansa had last seen him.

Clutched tightly in his hands was a short sword. Sansa took it from his body gently. As she held a sword for the first time in her entire life, Sansa sensed power within its touch. It was a strange heaviness that comforted her, knowing its weight could cut down her enemies. In that moment Sansa knew why Arya had found these needles more desireable.

Sansa found its sheath and sling. She secured it on her shoulder and the sword rested at her side. She looked to her left. Theon had a broadsword set at his hip and bow and arrows strapped to his back. He looked nearly himself again.

His head was held high and shoulders straight in a way only those raised to a high born family would. Soft light made his hair appear darker and his face harder. He looked dangerous; a sight Sansa would have thought impossible not yet a day before. He looked truly like Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Isles.

The snapping of a twig made both Theon and Sansa jump with surprise. The strong image of Theon Greyjoy was quickly shattered, and just like that his shoulder sunk and fear shrouded his face.

A deer bounded past them quickly, nearly colliding with Sansa. Once the deer was out of their sight, the thicket became silent. It stayed that way for several heart beats, and then faintly the sound of a dog howling in the distance pierced through. Sansa began to panic looking towards the direction the deer came.

Then harshly Theon grabbed Sansa's wrist turning her around coming face to face with him. He had his bow drawn, "Run." He said. He pushed her in the direction opposite to where she had been staring and told her to run once more with strength behind his words.

She ran with Theon at her heels heart pounding. She could feel each beat thump in her entire body. Her hair came undone from its braid and flew behind her in wispy tangles. Although they could not see Ramsay's dogs, they heard their barks louder than before.

Sansa ran without a thought for anything but survival. She ran over dead man's bodies; through underbrush that scratched her face. Sansa risked glancing over her shoulder to see Theon when her eyes saw a black hound come snarling through a dense foliage.

"Theon watch out!" She yelled. Theon turned his body and pulled his bow string taunt and released an arrow in seconds. The dog shrieked in pain, and collapsed. He stood and pulled another arrow from its quiver.

"Run!" He yelled back at Sansa, "Run and don't you ever stop!"

Another dog came and was shot down before Sansa turned her back and ran. She couldn't believe she was leaving him, and forced down the twinge of guilt she felt over doing so. She wasn't safe yet, and couldn't allow herself to think about abandoning Theon. Sansa ran but her steps became more and more labored. Her new sword's weight slowed her down and her body ached with protest, but the sound of snarls and barks made her push thoughts of that away as well.

Sansa suddenly tripped and fell on her ass. She realized it was the head of a decapitated man that caused her to fall. She gasped and shuddered. Now she was covered in both mud and blood. She looked up, away from the bodiless head, and saw two of Ramsay's dogs bolting straight to her. Sansa scrambled back and got to her feet.

Sansa knew she couldn't outrun them any longer. They would catch her. So she stopped running and pulled her sword from her sheath and turned around. She didn't see two dogs anymore just one and before Sansa could stab the dog it jumped up and slammed Sansa to the ground. Sansa screamed in shock.

The dark beast quickly bit into Sansa's left arm. A sound of pain ripped out into the forest. Its sharp teeth tore her flesh and fueled her adrenaline. Sword still in hand Sansa took the hilt and struck the dog's head with as much force she possessed. The dog yelped and released Sansa's arm.

She swiftly raised her sword again, and with the blade hacked at the dog's neck until it fell from the dog's body. Her sword was covered in blood, and Sansa couldn't bare to look at her arm. Her dress was torn and she felt faint. The sound of another dog brought Sansa back slightly.

She ran forward into what seemed to be an infinite sea of trees and underbrush. Sansa came to a creek that she fell before. She reached out her hands and cupped the water to drink. It didn't take away the pain in her arm, nor the pounding in her heart and head, but it cleared her throat and calmed her breath considerably.

 _Run and don't you ever stop!_

Theon's words began to dance in her mind. They seemed to taunt her now. Sansa felt as though she would die right there and then if she moved another step. Her ears were ringing. Everything she saw began to swim. She felt so sleepy...

She closed her eyes and imagined being with her family again. All of them. Then she imagined seeing Bran and Rickon, _alive_! She opened her eyes again, and thought she had to be dreaming. Surly she had to be. Sansa looked up across the creek and saw a direwolf.

 _It couldn't be Lady, she's dead you stupid girl!_

Sansa stared wide eyed and dumbfounded. The direwolf came closer and Sansa realized it really wasn't Lady, for the fur was too sleek. However, she felt as though this creature was familiar.

"Nymeria?" Sansa called. The direwolf came right by the edge of the creek directly across from Sansa. Sansa couldn't believe it.

 _Can it be? Could it truly be Nymeria, Arya's direwolf?_

"Nymeria?" She called again. The direwolf began to snarl. Its hackles raised and teeth bared. Sansa winced. Then she heard the barking of a dog behind her, turned her head she saw one of Ramsay's dogs come to a halt staring the direwolf down. Its teeth also bared. Sansa didn't know how to act. She wasn't even sure she had the energy to act. She looked back to the direwolf but it had left. She had sworn she had seen the direwolf.

 _It couldn't have just been a dream._

Sansa tried to stand but gasped in pain. Ramsay's dog saw her then. It snarled and Sansa stood tall. The dog didn't move but began to circle Sansa, hackles raising. Sansa reached for her sword but found it missing from her sheath. She cursed herself under her breath and cursed Ramsay too.

The dog stopped moving and Sansa knew it would attack her and kill her. She found herself oddly peaceful.

 _You're delirious. Run, run! Run and don't you ever stop!_

Sansa couldn't run. She stood her ground. The dog charged for Sansa, but just before it jumped an arrow came flying and hit the dog in its side. The dog yelped and soon another arrow came and the dog fell dead. Sansa swayed on her feet.

Theon now stood before her. She hadn't seen where he had come from. He looked strong again, Sansa thought. He looked down at her arm, and as understanding dawned on his face Sansa's vision began to swim once more.

"Sansa? Sansa? _Sansa_!" She heard faintly before her vision went black, and she saw and heard nothing.

 **A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger (Bwahaha)! If you like please favorite and follow, also reviews really keep me inspired. Thank you my committed readers and reviews, this chapter is for you.**


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